The Great Rebuilding
by A2MOM
Summary: Five years after the war has ended, Deimos, Abel and a reluctant Cain decide to adopt a child. Cain/Abel/Deimos, Encke/Keeler, Puck/Oberon, and lots of kids! M for sex, mature themes, swearing.


The Great Rebuilding

* * *

Married, with children...five years after the war.

* * *

I do not own Starfighter, which was created by the wonderful Hamletmachine! Go read and support this wonderful story!

* * *

1.

Keeler answered the door with a toddler on his hip and a harassed look on his face.

"Oh, thanks for coming so fast, guys," he greeted them loudly, over the incessant wailing coming from the back of the house. "I feel like a jerk for asking you out on a night like this, but I don't know anyone else—"

There was a loud _'Crash_!" from somewhere down the hallway and the sound of a vicious argument containing the words "Poophead" and "You're in Time Out!". Abel could see Deimos wince and Cain's face immediately darken, like it did when he was about to come, or throw something across the room.

"—Who speaks Russian," Keeler finished apologetically, ignoring the noise as if it was a minor daily occurrence. Which, Abel thought with trepidation, it probably was.

"No problem, Keeler," Abel smiled reassuringly as Keeler made room in the entryway for the three of them to take off their boots and shrug out of their heavy winter coats.

Keeler smiled fleetingly and shifted the baby to his other denim clad hip. Baby gurgled happily up at Abel with a toothless grin, chewing on a strand of Keeler's hair that had worked free from its messy top-knot. It was impossible to tell if Baby was male or female, just another happy little potato person with drool running down a chubby chin and fingers smeared with whatever nameless food substance also adorned Keeler's t-shirt.

"She's in the nursery," Keeler threw over his shoulder as he lead them down the narrow hallway of the rickety bungalow, kicking plastic blocks and half-clothed dolls out of their path.

They were stopped halfway to their destination by a little blonde haired, mocha-skinned girl of about five wearing pink footie pajamas and a murderous look on her face.

"Dadda!" She piped up at Keeler, halting the former Alliance soldiers in their tracks as she placed her balled up fists on her tiny hips. "Tell Jack he is _not _ 'llowed to come in _our _ room 'cos he's a _boy_ and he's in _Big Trouble_! And, and, this is the_ girls_ room and I told him he needs to go in _Time Out !_ And, and, he called me a 'Poophead'! Dadda I told him I was was gonna tell _Papa_ on him—!"

"Jack," Keeler called into the room distractedly, trying to untangle his hair from Baby's fist, "What are you supposed to be doing right now?"

Jack could be seen in the Girls Room sitting in the middle of an upturned pile of bright plastic blocks, spilled from a container that advertised "Mega Builder Set! Over 200 Pieces!" He was a cherubic looking three year old with a mop of dark brown hair and an angelic expression on his heart shaped face. Abel found it hard to believe he was guilty of the crimes his older sister was accusing him of.

"Brushin' teef Dadda," Jack admitted happily. A little girl of about two sat with him, a Keeler look alike with corn silk hair and big blue eyes, also dressed for bed. She was decorating her fingernails-and most of her hand- with what Abel really hoped wasn't a permanent black marker.

"Then please go brush your teeth and pick out a story for sleepy night-night." Keeler succeeded in freeing his hair when Baby pulled the hem of his t- shirt to his or her mouth and started to chew. "Katie," he said patiently, addressing the miffed blonde," I need you to be a big girl now; take Jack and Sophie to brush their teeth please."

Katie immediately took her orders to heart and stomped into the Girls Room . She looked uncannily like Encke when he was yelling at his troops on the _Sleipnir_, and as they hurried on, Abel swore he heard, "You little kids are, are, in _Big Trouble_ and are goin' in _Time Out_! 'M I making myself clear?!"

It was always a bit like traversing a minefield, whenever they visited Encke and Keeler's house on Colony Six. It was based on an old-earth style bungalow with five rooms bedrooms, temperamental plumbing, and a fantastic view of the belt of Orion at night. The house was a money pit with one problem after another, but with Encke's disability it kept him busy and less depressed about sitting home, collecting a check from the VA every month.

After they married, almost immediately after the war, Encke and Keeler brought the dilapidated house and started to fill it with kids. Some-like Kate and Sophie- were born through a surrogate, Keeler and Encke's DNA spliced so both girl's carried each of their father's traits. The others, like Baby, were a revolving door of foster children; war orphans that needed a home before adoption. Some of them ended up staying. They had a sixteen year old son, Miles, who had lost his entire family during the Last Attack; plus sweet little Jack, who had been deemed unadoptable due to behavioral issues.

The accumulation of deeper layers of toys, scattered shoes and the occasional wide-eyed preschooler or preteen seemed to match the deterioration of Keeler's once pristine appearance as well. Still, Keeler never complained, and always appeared blissfully happy.

"Damn, you two have really done a lot with this place," Cain observed drily as he stepped over a broken Barbie™ space station, only to swear under his breath when his foot squashed a stuffed Teddy that began singing "Jingle Bells" in a mechanized soprano.

Keeler grinned at him and disarmed Baby, who had now pulled free the chopstick that had been holding his hastily knotted hair atop his head.

"Oh thanks! Yeah, Encke and Oberon have been remodeling the attic; we should have another two bedrooms renovated by the end of the month!"

"Probably going to stuff another six kids in each," Cain muttered, making Deimos smirk and Abel bite his lip to keep from laughing.

Keeler was oblivious thankfully, leading them at last into the nursery. Puck was there, at the epicenter of the ceaseless din, which was emanating from a crib festooned with pink bumper pads and housing a single, screaming toddler. The noise halted the three former Alliance soldiers on the threshold but Abel had to hand it to Puck, smiling sweetly and attempting to distract the little girl with a winning smile and a box of animal crackers. The strain on Puck's face spoke eloquently of a valiant but failed campaign that would have had Abel in retreat after the first five minutes.

"Oh hi guys!" Puck said loudly, looking relieved that back up had finally arrived. "Keeler, I tried _everything_," he went on, taking Baby from Keeler as he crossed the room. Puck looked like he really wanted to start screaming himself. "She won't take her bottle; she won't let me pick her up…"

"That's okay, sweetheart," Keeler called back, "why don't you take a break for a bit; I think Maya needs to be changed anyway." Sure enough, there was a damp spot on Keeler's side where Baby Maya had been happily ensconced. Puck gratefully took the baby, flashed a sunny smile at Abel while muttering something that sounded like 'screw this I'm outta here', and wisely fled.

"Can either of you understand what she's saying?" Keeler shouted to Deimos and Cain as he tried to reach for the little girl. She looked to be about one or two, dark hair a wispy mess about her tear streaked face. She looked at the four of them in bewilderment, shying away from Keeler's soothing coos and outstretched arms. All she wore was a sodden diaper and a dirty onesie that was too small even for her emaciated frame. The smell of her filthy, unwashed body was appalling and Abel wrinkled his nose before he could stop himself.

"Whaaaa?" Cain offered unhelpfully, but stopped laughing when Keeler shot him a dirty look reminiscent of his days in command.

"Here," Abel said hastily, moving to the other side of the crib in an attempt to herd the little girl within Keeler's reach. "Maybe if I grab her arm-" He grasped the frightened child who immediately increased the decibel of her cries to the level of a pneumatic drill.

"Abel! Let her go!" Keeler winced, flapping his hands but Abel had already let go with a shocked gasp.

"Don't squeeze her!" Cain snarled, hands over his ears.

"I didn't! I was only trying to help-!"

"What the hell's goin' on in here?!" Encke and Oberon had drifted down from their second story repairs, Oberon looking casually amused at Abel's red face.

"Baby," Encke went on loudly, glaring at Keeler with his hands on his hips, "I thought these two," he jerked a thumb at Deimos and Cain, "were s'posed to be helpin', not making her yell more ?!"

"Hey! I didn't do anything-!" Cain retorted, rounding on the larger man and throwing out his chest.

Abel covered his face with his hands and groaned 'oh, please' under his breath. Puck peeked nervously around the corner with a freshly diapered Baby Maya in his arms. Baby Maya was sucking raptly on a pacifier that was upside down in her mouth.

At this point, Jack wandered into the room, wearing nothing but a _Starfighter Steve_! T-shirt and one sock. In his hand was a tooth brush with enough toothpaste on it for at least five people.

"Papa," he said, tugging at Encke's pantleg, "Need help bushin' my teef."

"Aw son; who let you squeeze the damn toothpaste again?"

"Jack!" Katie marched in between Oberon and Encke to confront her wayward younger sibling. "You are goin' in, in, _Time Out Right Now_! Papa, tell Jack he is, is, goin' in-!"

"Zatknis! (shut up)" Deimos rapped out, gesturing curtly to the room at large. Puck gave a frightened little squeak and retreated, pulling a protesting Kate and pantless Jack with him. Abel saw Oberon lean against the doorframe with a big grin on his face. Evidently, watching Cain and Encke get yelled at by someone half their size was a lot more fun than hanging wallboard.

" 'Zat-what'?" Encke snarled, but Keeler waved him off.

A ringing silence filled the house. As one, the six remaining adults stared at the now silent toddler, who was sniffling and staring at Deimos.

"She stopped crying! Oh Deimos," Keeler cried in relief, "I could kiss you! Whatever you said, do it again!"

Deimos smiled, then turned to the crib. He rattled off a soothing stream of Russian and the little girl blinked, sniffling with hitching breaths while goo ran down her nose. Slowly, Deimos approached and held his arms open.

"Why didn't you do that?" Encke muttered to Cain, who _tched _ menacingly.

"Come here, Malyshka, (little one)" Deimos said softly, smiling. The room held a collective breath as the child crawled over and pulled herself up to stare at him with big, brown eyes.

"Keeler," Deimos said, without breaking eye contact as the little girl fastened a hand around one of his fingers, "hand me her bottle, please."

Keeler scooped up the bottle and passed it to Deimos, who took it and silently offered it to the child. Within seconds she was drinking noisily from it, not pausing even when Deimos picked her up and lifted her into his arms. The smile that split Keeler's face made Abel grin and he tentatively reached a hand out to stroke her baby-soft hair.

"Bath?" Deimos asked her gently. "Puzyrey (bubbles)? Keeler, you do have bubble bath, right?"

"Of course, sweet heart; bathroom's just down the hall…!"

Deimos followed the taller man, cooing to the child in Russian and Abel gave a happy sigh. He turned his hopeful gaze to Cain's scowling face, drawing a breath to speak, but Cain beat him to the punch.

"This is a setup," he snarled at Abel. He swung his incensed gaze at Encke, who was failing to look innocent, and Oberon, who wasn't even trying. "And you two Mudoks (bastards) were in on it!"

"Oh but isn't she precious? And Deimos is so good with her already!"

"_No_."

"But she's so _cute_!"

"That's what you said about the goddamn dog; Princess, and the friggin' things a big ugly mutt now-!"

Abel looked at him pleadingly, and Cain actually took a step back, holding up his hands to ward him off.

"And you can get that look off your face right now, Princess; ain't gonna work! I told both of you little brats before we got married, No Kids! No adopting, no surrogates, and no foster kids, either!"

"Oh but she's just one little girl," Abel begged, ignoring Encke who was laughing hard behind him. "It would just be for a trial, just a couple of weeks; there are three of us, and we have all that extra room-?"

"No! Goddammit, Abel-!"

"Give up, Estipid, you not gonna ween dis one," Oberon advised him sagely.

"Does that mean we can have another one too, sweetie?" Puck had drifted back into the nursery, now that the decibel level had fallen to safe thresholds, bouncing a sleeping baby Maya in his arms..

"You can have the screamer, Puck; she's all yours," Cain retorted.

"_I_ want the screamer!" Abel said loudly. He fixed Cain with a frigid glare. "Don't give our baby away!"

"Princess-!"

"Couch, Cain. For a _month_. "

Cain looked beseechingly at his former shipmates. "Little help, here?"

"Don't ask me," Encke shook his head, "we got four, and Keeler's already got a meetin' with the surrogate on Monday for number five."

"Ooh, we have two," Puck smiled eagerly, leaning against Oberon's side. The lanky Haitian looped his arms around the smaller man, gazing at him adoringly.

Puck giggled and his big blue eyes danced back and forth between Abel and Cain. "Oh little girls are so much fun; it's just like having dolls again, all the pretty little clothes and shoes and everything is pink!"

He beamed up at his lover, ignoring the disgusted look Cain shot him. "They simply have to have two, don't you think, Obie- sweetie?"

Oberon nodded, grinning at Cain. Abel bit his lip, waiting tensely as Cain scowled at the four of them; four and a half, really, counting Baby Maya.

"I suppose you and Myshonok already have the little howler named?"

"Nadia," Abel replied promptly.

"Tch. Too common. Half the chicks I banged in high school were named Nadia."

"Misha's nice" Puck tried.

"Yeah, for a boy," Cain muttered.

"Anya?" Abel tried again, but Cain shook his head. "Lyudmila? Natasha?"

"Kid's already got a name, you two bone heads," Encke chuckled. "Pavlina."

"Ooo, I like that one," Puck sighed happily. "Don't you, Cain honey?"

"I hate you," Cain snarled, as Abel took him by the hands and dragged him to the sounds of splashing and laughter down the hall.

* * *

2.

They went on a shopping spree the following week, or rather Deimos and Abel did when Cain was at work. Everything _was_ f-ing pink, alright; pink rompers and diapers and little pink socks. The kitchen cabinet held pink sippy cups made of organic polymers; no harmful chemicals allowed, and there were pink bibs folded and awaiting drool. Neatly stacked jars of All Natural peas and apple sauce and some disgusting thing called meatsticks lined the pantry shelves.

Cain put his foot down at the pink ergonomic jogging stroller Abel's mother had threatened to buy.

He stood in the doorway of the spare bedroom. The two little sneaks he had stupidly vowed to spend happily ever after with, had turned it into a little pink palace.

"So, do we have two credits left to rub together? Looks like you two were busy today. Jesus, did Baby's R Us puke in here?" Cain asked, exasperated.

He unzipped his work coverall with aching hands as Abel crossed the room to give him a kiss. Fucking foreman had had him on the laser welder all day; making him feel like he was eighty instead of twenty-eight.

"Mom paid for most of this," Abel assured him with a smile. "How was your day?"

"Why, yes; I'd love a beer and a blow-job, thanks for asking, Princess," Cain smirked. "Myshonok, don't feel left out; you can give me a massage later."

"I have class tonight," Deimos called absently over his shoulder. The instructions and parts for a crib were spread out on the floor all around him.

All of this crap was ridiculously complicated, Cain thought darkly. As if having a little rugrat running around the place wasn't going to be miserable enough.

"Go get your shower," Abel smiled, shooing him off to their master bedroom. "I'll get dinner started."

"Tch," Cain complained, trudging wearily to do as he was told. "Rather have the blowjob, g'dammit."

* * *

He stripped and hung his work suit in the decontamination unit, groaning at the aching muscles of his lower back. After the war the Great Rebuilding had begun, and like most former fighters, Cain had taken a contract job with a construction company. The work was hard; welding titanium in the cold of space all day, as war-damaged satellites and planetary shields were repaired.

The pay was triple what he'd made in the Alliance, however, and, combined with his salary and Abel's as a commercial shuttle pilot, Deimos could afford to go back to school. He was undergoing a lengthy, painful series of treatments to have the chemical burns to his throat repaired too. Just hearing his soft, mellow voice growing stronger again was enough to send Cain out to weld the whole f-ing colony together again, if he had to.

The three of them had settled on Colony three, a step more prosperous than Colony six, but not as swanky as seven, where Praxis and Athos lived. Cain walked naked into the bathroom and dialed up a deep muscle massage shower, moaning in relief as the hot water pummeled his shoulders and neck. He had to hand it to Praxis, the clod had managed to end up with the son of a fabulously wealthy businesswoman. Athos had retired at the age of twenty-seven to "Shop and work on my tan," as he put it. Praxis was enrolled in one of the top medical schools in the Alliance, and was halfway to becoming a doctor.

Cain chuckled a little, despite himself. He wasn't sure which part surprised him the most; that Praxis had had the brains in his thick head to pass the entrance exams, or that Athos, who could buy any lover three worlds over, had settled for _him_. Hell, he'd even bought the oaf a new eye…

He wouldn't trade places with Praxis, though: not for all the credits in the Alliance. Praxis may be rolling in dough, but he had to come home to Athos every night. Cain was content with Abel and Deimos, surprised that after nearly four years of marriage they were all still happy together. And, they hadn't kicked him out. Yet.

Which is why he wished they weren't lousing up what was a really sweet gig, by adding somebody else's runty, sickly looking two-year old to the mix.

He was rinsing the shampoo out of his eyes, when a waft of cool air told him he had a visitor. A pair of arms looped around his waist and a naked male body pressed against his own.

"Here; give me some soap," Abel said at his ear so as to be heard over the sound of the spray. He extended an arm, palm up while his other hand rubbed slowly up and down Cain's wet belly. Cain gave him a squirt from the dispenser, sighing as Abel's hands began to slide over his torso and arms. He let Abel lean him fully back against his body, Abel's hardening cock pressed against the cheeks of his ass.

"Feel's nice, Princess," Cain murmured as Abel's hands drifted lower, careful to not get any soap near the head of his by now hard dick.

Abel chuckled against his neck, sucking a bruise that made him loll his head to the side and moan. "I can make you feel even nicer if you want."

"Mmm. Nicer would be nice." Cain let the spray rinse him free of suds and moved Abel's hand to his dick. "Where's Myshonok?"

"Lying down before class," Abel said quietly, kissing along Cain's throat. "Therapy really wore him out today, and then he wanted to assemble the crib…."

"Little more to the left," Cain panted, urging Abel's hand lower, and Abel laughed.

"Why don't you make yourself useful with that nice big boner pokin' me in the ass, instead of talking so much, and poke me in the ass?" Cain growled, changing the subject and laughing breathlessly himself.

He pressed his cheeks into Abel's pelvis, his own dick hard at the thought of that hot, curved shaft pumping into him. In the past few years,bottoming had become an act he secretly couldn't get enough of, though he'd never admit it. Luckily, neither Abel nor Deimos teased him about it, and were only too happy to indulge his every request.

Abel was murmuring nonsense to him as he took his time prepping him, using the lube they kept handily in the shower. Cain braced his arms against the shower wall and bent forward, legs spread as Abel's fingers stroked in and out, his body trembling with excitement. Fuck, he'd never make fun of Abel for having nice long girly fingers again…

"Baby, I'm ready," Cain gritted out through clenched teeth, fucking back on Abel's hand. If Abel didn't decide to get the show on the road soon, he was going to take off without him.

"Me too, I just don't want to hurt you, can you spread your legs a little more?" Abel panted, removing his fingers and nudging his dick eagerly at Cain's hole but still being so patient and sweet.

"Won't—hurt me—" Cain assured him with a grunt, spreading his legs even as he felt Abel's hand spread his cheeks. "Come on, do it baby, you make me beg and I'll-!"

"You'll what?" Abel laughed, the little shit, pressing in in a series of heavenly thrusts that made Cain's eyes roll back in his head. "You'll make me pay later?"

Cain cried out as Abel pushed all the way in, hands gripping his hips tightly with his dick buried balls deep inside Cain's heat. He ground himself against the frustratingly stilled body behind him trying to get Abel to move; fuck him; anything, but he was locked helplessly in place. His dick tightened a notch more, the tip rising up as he stared down at it stupidly between his straining arms.

"What are you going to do to me?" Abel panted as he began to thrust, and Cain reached a hand down to start jerking himself off at last. "Are you going to tie my hands behind—," Abel gasped, picking up the pace a bit as he found an angle that made Cain throw his head back and shout; "be-behind my back again, nnnhn! And fuck my mouth while Deimos gives it to—to me hard-?!"

"Unh! Fuck me fuck me!" Cain was begging by now but he was past caring; Abel rarely dirty-talked him when they fucked and god, those filthy words coming out of that pretty little mouth were gonna make him-make him-!

"Yes yes oh I want to come in you lover, let me oh God Cain!" Abel snapped his hips faster and faster and Cain felt his balls draw up tight and hard. "I can't wait you feel so good! Mmmm! Come for me now lover; come come come!"

Cain cried out in dismay as Abel's thrusts abruptly stilled and he felt himself being filled with Abel's release. Then there were teeth sinking into his shoulder and Abel's hand slipped between his legs, rubbing his 'nads and fuck, he couldn't jerk himself hard enough-

"Do it," Abel ordered at his ear, his voice hard and Cain started to explode. Abel's free hand slapped Cain's ass, making him jump and he hissed, "come on you sexy gypsy, come all over my hand, and I'll make you lick it clean."

"AhhHH!" Cain howled, feeling the wave of his orgasm swell even higher as Abel's hand smacked hard, one, two, three more times.

"That's right," Abel pressed his lips to Cain's ear as Cain gasped and shook and shot all over the shower wall, "oh I love to watch you come!"

When he came to, Cain sagged into Abel's strong arms, wondering vaguely when exactly Abel had gotten strong. Abel purred at his ear and told him all the usual post fuck bullshit. You're so sexy; (ugh, his dick slid out then, making Cain feel hollow and drippy); I love you baby, you make me feel so good….

"Oh I love you too," Abel whispered in delight, kissing the side of his face sweetly.

"Goddammit," Cain swore, irritated that it had actually been_ him_ saying the L-word , but too worn out to make himself sound the least bit threatening. "You and Myshonok have now completely made me as girly as you two twats; hope you're both happy."

Abel had the nerve to laugh, and to not look shaky at all, despite just pounding Cain nearly into the next apartment. Cain glowered at him over his shoulder, inspecting the whopper of a hickey Abel had given him. That was damn hot, at least.

"Very happy," Abel said with a smile, and pulled him around for a kiss. Abel might be a pain in the ass (literally at this moment, Cain thought), but he had a very nice tongue. And it was a very nice kiss.

"Now," Abel said, switching off the shower and climbing out to hand Cain a clean, fluffy towel, "get dried off, and I'll bring your dinner in to you." He dried himself off quickly, and turned to pad naked into their room. "I know you must be tired; you just let me do all the work tonight; 'kay?"

Cain dried himself off and plodded in to the master bedroom. He looked at Deimos' sleeping form, curled under the blankets, their big Alsatian, Devochka (girl), stretched out protectively next to him. The dog cracked an eye at Cain, gave a deep sigh and fell back asleep. She had been a stray too, starved for food and affection when Deimos and Abel had brought her home… full of every parasite known to man but Abel had cried and Deimos had begged, and here she was. Fuck, for that matter, here he was, too.

"Estipid," Cain muttered to himself, crawling into bed naked and resting a hand on Deimos' back. Devochka nudged at his fingers and he absently scratched her muzzle. "Fuck you Oberon; right again…"

* * *

3.

They took Pavlina to the pediatrician Encke and Keeler used, Abel driving and Cain surly because he couldn't smoke with the baby in the car. Deimos sat in the back seat next to his Malyshka, making her smile shyly by playing peek a boo and letting her grab his nose. For the past few weeks he'd been staying at Keeler and Encke's house, getting to know the child and letting her grow comfortable with him. Abel visited when he could but Cain had been putting in such long hours, he had barely been able to get away.

Thank god Deimos' classes were over for the fall semester; he'd probably take virtual classes during the winter term so he could stay home and be the primary caregiver for their child.

Their child….A social worker had already run their background checks and even Cain had passed. (Deimos suspected Abel's father had probably pulled some strings in that department). Their apartment and finances had been approved; even good old Devochka had been on her best behavior. 'Their child' was something Deimos had always longed for, and now it was finally coming true.

Before entering the Alliance, Deimos had been around children all the time. He was an only child, but his family was full of cousins, and the ghetto he grew up in was crammed full of kids, playing in the streets from dawn til dusk. Now they were all dead or relocated to colonies across the Alliance, and all Deimos had left was Cain, and his father, way back on Colony five.

Deimos had grown up quickly by becoming another set of hands. He was diapering and bathing and feeding babies expertly by the age of twelve. Cain had teased him mercilessly about it being sissy work but at least Deimos wasn't working on the assembly lines, making bombs and Starfighter parts like the older, stronger boys.

When their neighborhood was gassed, Cain was actually in a lock-up for selling stolen goods, nearly fifty kilometers away….It had saved his life, and though Deimos survived the horrific attack, the delicate lining of his esophagus and trachea were so badly damaged from inhalation burns, he had to be intravenously fed for weeks…Which was a pity, really, as the hospital had been gassed too, and medical relief wouldn't arrive for over a month.

Children are resilient by design, and Deimos had survived on fluids and his own wits until he could be hospitalized, a twelve year old walking skeleton unable to control his saliva and in constant pain. His father spent every waking moment at his bedside, singing to him and holding his hand while he begged and cried to be taken home. Deimos had joined to Alliance for his father, had survived every rape and beating in basic training and every battle in space determined to come home to him, voice destroyed but body intact.

His father had wept with joy when he, Cain and Abel entered into their group marriage but refused to relocate near them. "This is your life now, "he said. "Time for you to start living it for yourself."

Now, with luck, Deimos would become a father too. He looked at Pavlina, eyes drooping with sleep as the car drove on and Cain and Abel bickered quietly back and forth.

"Cain, we fought an intergalactic war for almost three years; raising a child will be easy compared to that. Most of it is instinctual, anyway-,"

"Oh like you know fuck all about being a parent," Cain replied, his tone even to take out the sting. "That sounds like some pretty bullshit Keeler fed you, and you fell for it like always didn't you?"

Deimos saw Abel's jaw clench, Cain's words hitting home. "You want to end up looking like him," Cain pressed on," bags under his eyes and living in a dump and not a credit to his name?"

"Their house isn't a dump, and they love those kids-," Abel tried, but Cain tched.

"Doubt Asshole does but Blondie, shit; he's got the biggest bleeding heart in the whole fucking-,"

"Don't swear in front of the baby!" Abel hissed, glancing nervously over his shoulder but Deimos gave him a reassuring smile, nodding toward the sleeping child.

"Look, she's gonna be my kid too, I got some say in how things run. I cuss, she'll have to deal. A few four letter words aren't going to warp her."

"Oh you are just impossible," Abel huffed. "I should have married Madelyn Barrington like I wanted to."

"Except that you don't like pussy, and who the fuck is this Barrington bitch anyway? You cheatin' on me and Myshonok, Princess?"

Abel glared sideways at Cain. "She was my girlfriend, Cain; the one and only girlfriend I ever had." Cain was swearing under his breath and after letting him stew, Abel added, "We were in third grade, for God's sake."

Deimos laughed softly and Cain started a rant about cheaters and game playing and they were off again. Watching them Deimos felt an unbearable pang of sadness. He leaned over to press a kiss to Pavlina's baby soft hair. If the three of them couldn't agree on keeping the little girl, Deimos would have to choose.

_Who am I kidding_? He thought to himself. _I already made up my mind the first time I held her. Whether they want her or not, I do._

* * *

_4.  
_

Cain was still digging in his heels; and Abel was ridiculously unrealistic, wanting to organize a homecoming party with twenty guests and balloons and a cake. Worst of all was Deimos, Keeler thought sadly, watching him in the nursery of he and Encke's house; rocking Pavlina in the glider and singing her to sleep. Already completely smitten, his heart would be broken to pieces if things didn't work out and they couldn't all agree to keep her.

Keeler left them and crept quietly through the house, tucking in covers and getting last drinks of water as he made his nightly bed check. In Katie's room he did a complete inspection of her closet to assure her it was monster free. Jack was already sound asleep, thank God. Keeler carefully pulled back his blankets and removed tonight's stolen booty; a pair of scissors, one of Miles' lighters and a pocket knife belonging to Encke. At least he hadn't found the bottle of painkillers Encke took for his leg. Keeler had almost had a heart attack when he'd found those, and Jack spent the night screaming and throwing up from the emetic Keeler had had to grimly force down his throat.

Encke was at the kitchen table getting backpacks and lunches ready for daycare in the morning. Three drink boxes, three pbj's, two fruit snacks and a box of raisins, three bags of animal crackers and a note for Jack's teacher, that his afternoon meds were decreased to one pill instead of two. Keeler watched Encke neatly fill and seal each backpack, activate the data chips, and set the temperature on the cold-compartment to keep the drinks from spoiling.

"Katie has that field trip tomorrow to the Lesser Moon," Keeler yawned tiredly, making his way to the refrigeration unit for a bottled water. "Did you put her permission form on her data chip?"

"Mmhm," Encke nodded. "Got that meetin' tomorrow at 1300 with Jack's counselor, don't forget. You want me to go to that, or take Sophie to get her teeth cleaned after daycare?"

Keeler leaned his slim hips against the sink and grimaced. "Crap, I forgot about the dentist. Can I go to Jack's appointment this time? I have go in to the office for a few hours tomorrow at 1500."

"Sure," Encke shrugged easily. "How was the little bugger's haul tonight? He find my pills again?"

Keeler laughed as Encke flashed him a smile. "No, I think we've finally managed to find a spot the little bandit won't." He strolled casually to the table and laid out the night's confiscated items. "The only one I'm really worried about is the lighter. It means he still wants to start fires, and Miles is smoking again."

"I'll have a chat with ol'Jack, Baby; Miles is all yours." He stood to clear the debris from the already cluttered table, wincing a bit as he put weight on his prosthetic leg.

"Sore tonight?" Keeler asked him, worried. He helped his husband clear the table, watching his stiff gait.

"No more'n usual, Baby," Encke grunted. Keeler noticed that he sat back down after just a few minutes, however, stretching out his left leg and frowning at it absently.

Keeler puttered around the kitchen for a few more minutes, straining his ears but for once there were no late night cries of "Dadda!" or "Papa, come kiss me 'night 'night again!".

"When will Miles get home from work?" he asked after a beat.

" 'Bout forty-five minutes." Encke looked up quickly. "Why, everybody sleepin' ?"

Keeler turned around and bit his lip, nodding quickly and Encke's pale eyes darted toward the hall.

"Deimos?"

"Rocking Pavlina to sleep."

They stared at each other, tense and waiting but for once there was nothing, just merciful quiet.

"Unh huh. Get over here, Baby." Encke was already undoing his fly and Keeler had the top button on his jeans open before he'd even crossed the room. Encke stood and Keeler helped him shove down his pants, then yanked his own off completely before pushing Encke back into the chair and straddling his lap.

"Oh shit; is this going to hurt your leg-?" Keeler hesitated before they even started to kiss. "Maybe I should just suck you off?"

"Not goin' anywhere, I want you just like this," Encke growled, one large hand wrapping around the back of Keeler's neck and yanking him forward for a kiss.

Keeler groaned, letting himself be held in place for Encke to thrust his tongue hot and wet in his mouth. Kissing always turned Keeler on unbearably and of all his lovers, Encke was by far the best kisser he'd been blessed to have. He wrapped his arms around Encke's broad shoulders and clung to him tightly as they pressed together, moaning and grinding and making out like teenagers on a first date. Encke's hands moved down to cup and squeeze his ass and then Keeler was being pushed away, lifted, and laid on his back on the table in surprise.

Encke raked his eyes over him like he wanted to devour him and Keeler shivered, naked from the waist down and t-shirt riding up, legs open in offering.

"Don't move," Encke ordered, and got one leg out of his own pants so he could double time it to the half-bath in the hallway.

Keeler could hear drawers opening and Encke rifling around, swearing, "Never can find the damn lube when you need it around here, 'spose Jack's got that, too."

"Be quiet!" Keeler hissed, rising up to look frantically towards the hall that lead to the kid's rooms but then Encke was back with a packet of KY in his hand.

"Thought I told you not to move," he growled, standing in between Keeler's legs and bending them back and open. He ripped the packet open with his teeth and quickly coated his fingers."Not gonna have to spank you like last time, am I?"

"Do you want me to scream and wake up the—ah!—kids?!" Keeler snapped, panting and arching his back as Encke started stretching him. "Oh!Oh, that feels _good_—oh shit hurry up, that's enough get in me before one of them-!"

He pressed his forearm over his mouth as Encke started to push and then he was in; oh God he couldn't remember the last time they'd actually _fucked,_ just hand jobs and a quick suck once or twice a week if they had five minutes to themselves. Right now Encke, was leaning over him and hauling his arm out of the way and kissing him, swallowing his moans as his beautiful, thick cock made Keeler glad he was a gay man.

"Unh! Unh! Oh do-don't break the table!" Keeler panted as the slap-slap of their bodies started edging the kitchen table across the floor. "Mm! Oh baby, do me please; harder!"

"Make up your damn mind, Baby," Encke laughed at his ear, hands under Keeler's ass and lifting him higher. Keeler spanked him and Encke groaned, sinking his teeth into his shoulder and Keeler shoved a hand down to his own dick, jerking himself hard and fast…..

* * *

Deimos laid Pavlina's little sleep-limp body in her crib, smiling down at her as she curled on her side, sucking raptly on her left thumb. His hand brushed the dark curls back from her face and he pulled her blanket up around her tiny shoulders, tucking it gently around her. She was small; the three of them had been shocked when the pediatrician had told them she was probably three or four, not one and a half or two liked they'd thought. All of her primary teeth were in—in a horrible state of decay, but that had been easily corrected—and her proportions were closer to a preschooler than a toddler.

Her motor skills were good but she was far delayed in other areas. She hadn't uttered a word, other than crying, though she apparently understood all the Russian Deimos spoke to her.

"So you'll be like me, Malyshka," Deimos whispered. "Little, and quiet. And that's okay."

He turned down the blankets on the cot Encke and Keeler had set up for him in the nursery, used the bathroom and changed into t-shirt and pajama pants for sleep. He was almost ready to turn in when he remembered he'd left his phone in the kitchen. Slipping off his shoes, he quietly made his way down the hallway, noticing the light and wondering if Encke and Keeler were still awake too.

They were, he discovered a moment later, but as they were currently having sex on the kitchen table he merely smiled and made his way back to his room. He would get his phone later.

A sleepy five year old met him in the hallway, rubbing her eyes with one hand and clutching a babydoll with the other.

"I need a go potty," she yawned, blinking up at him with Encke's face and Keeler's big, blue eyes. "Can you go get Dadda?"

"Dadda and Papa are busy," Deimos explained, herding her towards the nearest bathroom. "Can you go by yourself?"

"I hafta go poop-poop," she said, tired and cross. "Dadda has to help me wipe."

Deimos considered whether Keeler would be more upset if he was interrupted getting fucked in his own kitchen, or if a guest wiped his daughter's butt. Practicality won out.

"Go on, I'll help," he said and was thankful for once the little hellion was too tired to argue. After waiting patiently in the hallway and trying not to hear the thump-thump of the table in the kitchen, a little voice from behind the bathroom door called "Wiiipe meeeee!"

It had been a while and Deimos had forgotten that most little girls waited with their rear ends in the air and their hands grasping their ankles. He did as he was told as efficiently as possible, helping Katie flush and wash her hands before taking her hand and walking her back to bed.

"You have to check for monsters," she said, eyes big in the dark and staring at him with a worried little frown on her face. "They live ina closet."

Deimos walked to the closet and opened the door. "Go away, monsters," he said sternly. He looked back at the little girl and said, "They're gone. If they come back, call me and I'll come in and kill them for you."

"Do you have a gun? 'Cos the monster's'll only get killed if, if, you have a gun."

Deimos shook his head. "No, but I have a knife. Will that do?"

Katie smiled. "Yes, thank you!" She let Deimos tuck her in and, with a pat on the head, he quietly slipped back into the hall. Passing the side door he ran into Miles, Keeler and Encke's adopted teenaged son, just coming in from work. He smelled like steak and cooking grease, his busboy's uniform soiled and his face tired.

" 'Sup, guy?" the kid queried, shrugging out of his coat. He raked a hand through his bright red Mohawk, making the multiple piercings in his ears and lip glint in the low hallway light.

"Hi, Miles," Deimos smiled. Miles was a good kid who a few years ago would have been conscripted as a fighter, when the war was in full swing. Probably would have died, too; not nearly vicious enough to survive the brutality of basic or the constant skirmishes with the Colterons in space.

A desperate social worker had called Encke to the police station a little over a year ago, saying he had another hopeless case. Miles had been arrested for assault and stealing, been kicked out of his third foster home and was facing juvie or the streets. Encke had taken him home instead, (much to Keeler's indignation, as they had three young children in the house), given the kid a bed and a meal, and a bit of advice.

"You got a roof over your head here, son, long as you want it," Encke had related the tale to Deimos one night over a beer. "Keep it clean, and just remember who your new parents are, and what they used to do for a living."

Miles of course wasn't about to let two former Alliance commanders intimidate him. He was a jaded veteran of the foster system since the age of ten, had a rap sheet as long as Encke's arm and at fifteen was already taller and heavier than Keeler….So when the poor unfortunate boy chose to get in a shoving match with Keeler one day, while Encke had taken the three younger kids to buy shoes—

"Hee hee!" Encke had laughed drunkenly, and Deimos had giggled with him, "oh son, I wished I'd been ringside for _that_ one! Poor ol'Miles…It was 'yes, sir' and 'no, sir' for weeks after, 'til Keeler felt sorry for the fool and set his ass down for a long talk about respect, and choices and how we loved his damn fool ass; same as we did the other kids. But if he ever laid a hand on anybody in the house again, 'sorry' wouldn't even come _close_ to the way he'd be feelin' !"

Miles had gotten his act together, gotten a job when he turned sixteen and gone back to finish high school. Deimos liked him.

"How was work?" Deimos enquired politely, and the kid flashed him a grin.

"Sweet! Made 250 in tips; and finally got one of the hostess' to give me her number!" He started toward the kitchen, and asked, "I'm gonna grab a pop; you want anything?"

"No, thanks, but I'd stay away from the kitchen for a few more minutes if I were you. " He looked at the kid expectantly.

As predicted, he didn't miss a beat. "Shit. They fighting in there, or fucking?"

"Um, the last one."

"Oh." Surprisingly, the kid grinned. " 'Bout time! They both been _realllly _crabby lately!"

Deimos grinned in agreement. From the hallway a sleepy cry was heard and Miles turned his head, saying, "Jack's up. I'll go check him out. Later, Deimos. "

"Okay, Miles." Deimos watched his lanky form slip down the hall to his brother's room, smiling fondly. When he turned around, a flushed, disheveled Keeler was hurrying toward him.

"Oh!" Keeler pulled up short, embarrassed, hastily tucking his shirt in his jeans. "I thought I heard one of the kids?"

Deimos nodded. "Jack, but Miles came home just now, and went to check on him." He paused. "I helped Katie in the bathroom a minute ago too, I hope you don't mind? I have a lot of experience wiping butts, actually."

Keeler looked mortified. "Oh god I'm so sorry, you could have called me! I'd have, um…..?"

He trailed off when Deimos just smiled at him secretively, then covered his face with his hands. "Oh God," he groaned, "do I have _any_ dignity left after tonight?"

Deimos laid a reassuring hand on his arm. "Of course you do, milaya moya," he reminded him softly.

Keeler looked at him in surprise, than his shoulders sagged, and he let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, sweetheart," he whispered, giving Deimos a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. "But you better get used to it, because when you become a parent, sneaking around in your own house is the only way you'll ever get laid again!"

* * *

5.

They didn't have a welcome home party. Keeler had sat Abel down when he came to visit Pavlina and Deimos one afternoon, talking him out of that fantasy patiently. It was just as well, because it was an unbearably tense occaision, Pavlina clinging to Deimos and crying if he tried to put her down. She would let Abel touch her and talk to her as long as Deimos held her. But she wouldn't look at Cain, or let him touch her at all.

"Just give her time, please," Abel begged, laying a hand on Cain's arm and feeling the tension in his muscles before his hand was shrugged off.

It was the wrong thing to say. Cain turned his black eyes on him, and Abel had to force himself not to step back. It was the old Cain looking at him, the one that had been furious when Abel had volunteered them for the _Sleipnir _all those years ago...The Cain that used to slap Deimos around, too. Abel hadn't seen that look in over five years… he'd hoped, when they'd all married and settled down together, he'd never have to see that look again.

"Fine," Cain said coldly. "I'll give her time." He looked at Deimos, who was seated on the edge of the couch holding Pavlina nervously; or, maybe it was Pavlina holding him.

"She's got a month. This is a trial, right? So we keep the kid a month, and if it doesn't work out, we send her back."

"She's not a package, Cain!" Abel snapped. "You don't just _send her back_ because she's the wrong size, or there are a few defective parts! She's a child; _our_ child, and we made a commitment-!"

"_You_ made a commitment, Princess!" Cain shouted back, and Pavlina started to cry. Cain gestured angrily to where Deimos sat, white faced, trying to soothe the frightened child…. "You, and Myshonok made a commitment; not me!"

Cain kept shouting and gesturing angrily, and Pavlina was crying and Deimos looked like he might, too. Abel could feel everything the three of them had worked so hard for, slipping away; just exploding in his face like Hermes' and Pans' ship, blown apart by the 'Terons guns….

"You two went and picked out a kid for 'us' behind my back, got Asshole and Blondie and everyone else on your side when you both _knew_ I didn't want one!"

Tears started to run down Abel's face and he thought, not for the first time, go away, we don't need you, why can't it just be Deimos and I and the baby and we could be so much happier? But even as Cain continued to rant and Deimos sat silently with Pavlina crying and clinging to him, Abel could see the hurt and fear behind Cain's angry words. _He knows_, Abel thought, he thinks we don't want him, but we do_, I_ do—

"Stop!" Abel sobbed, and Cain flinched as Abel suddenly moved toward him, arms raised but Abel didn't slap him, just put his arms around him and cried, "I love you, we both do; please don't be angry anymore, I-I don't want us all to fight!"

"Godammit, Abel," Cain said gruffly, wrapping his arms around him in relief and holding on just as desperately. He buried his face in Abel's hair, kissing the side of his face in gratitude when he wasn't shoved away.

"May-maybe you're right," Abel sniffled, pulling back and looking into Cain's scared, dark eyes. "If we aren't all on board with this from the start then—then," he looked forlornly at Deimos, "maybe we should stop, before any of us gets too attached. It's not fair to the baby—,"

"No." Deimos stood, bouncing Pavlina's little exhausted body in his arms. She had nearly cried herself to sleep, and Abel wondered just how much she understood, beyond the ugliness of their voices. Deimos looked defiantly not just at Cain, but at Abel as well. "I don't give a damn what you two decide. If she goes, I go, too."

* * *

6.

There didn't seem to be much to say after that. Cain went out for a walk with Devochka to brood and smoke, while Abel fussed around the kitchen, trying to keep quiet and make dinner. Deimos sat on the couch, trying to settle the restless child while she fretted and cried and fought sleep. He was beyond tired; too, weeks of near constant, hands on care at Encke and Keeler's, broken sleep and his heart being completely taken over by this new, fragile little person.

He laid his head back against the couch, closing his eyes as he shifted Pavlina's finally slumbering form to take the ache out of his left arm. This was a huge undertaking; he hadn't realized the enormity of it until now and the thought of doing it on his own, despite all his brave words, terrified him.

He must have drifted off because the next thing he knew, he was being awoken by Abel, coming to gently take Pavlina from him. He started to protest, but Abel just smiled.

"My turn," he said quietly. "Go lay down awhile, in bed , love. You look exhausted."

"But, if she wakes up, she'll start to cry if she doesn't see me," Deimos started, but Abel just pressed a soft kiss to his mouth.

He shrugged, stood, and cradled Pavlina to him in a surpisingly sure embrace. "Oh well," he said simply, and took her quietly to the nursery down the hall.

Deimos bit his lip, torn. The urge to take over was overpowering, he literally had to sit on his hands to keep himself from leaping off the couch to follow Abel and his little girl. _Our little girl,_ not just mine he realized, biting his lip when the thought only added to his anxiety. Well, at least Abel wanted her, and if he did, Pavlina would have to get used to him as well, and Deimos would have to step back and not interfere. As for Cain…He sighed, closing his eyes wearily and stretched out on the couch, too tired for the trip to their bed.

* * *

When he awoke, curled up on the couch in a warm ball, his shoes were off and someone had tucked a blanket snugly around him. He heard a low murmur of voices and the delicious scent of beef stew filled the air. Blinking, he sat up stiffly, giving Devochka a rub behind the ears.

"Come on, Girl," he murmured to her in Russian, "let's go see if that tastes as good as it smells."

They were all seated at the table, Cain shooting furtive glances at Abel as he chattered and fussed over Pavlina, seated in her high chair in a pretty little dress and her teddy bear bib,like a little Princess on a throne. Cain looked up as Deimos approached, contrite now instead of angry. Deimos sat next to him and Cain gave an awkward smile of relief.

"Want me to get you some, Myshonok?" he asked, laying a warm hand on the back of his neck and giving a little squeeze. "Princess outdid himself tonight; soup's fuckin'-,"

Abel paused, spooning some potatoes up for Pavlina's hungry little mouth, and shot a glare at Cain.

"—Uh, soup's damn good," Cain finished lamely and Deimos had to laugh at the pained face he made. "Jesus, Princess; cussing is like breathing to me, how the fuck do you- ?—argh, godammit-!"

Abel put the spoon down with a huff. "Clean it up around the baby, for heaven's sake!" he scolded. "Honestly, how many times do I have to tell you-?!"

"She's not a baby, Milaya moya," Deimos said mildly. Abel looked at him in surprise. "She can feed herself, she's almost four, remember?"

Cain snorted and grinned, glad he wasn't the one being reprimanded for once and Deimos went on gently to Abel, "She'll make a mess, she's way behind on using a cup and spoon, but Keeler said we need to let her try."

"Oh," Abel said, slightly disappointed. He set down the little spoon and sat back, Pavlina's big brown eyes peering expectantly at him. "Okay, if you say so. I was having so much fun, though…"

Pavlina gripped the spoon in her fist and swirled it clumsily through the food Abel had carefully diced, proportioned, and laid out on her plate. She made a few awkward forays transferring the food to her mouth, watching the three adults as intently as they watched her. It didn't take her long to figure out that, a). she was hungry, b). the spoon was hindering the progress of getting the food into her tummy fast enough, and c). there was a far more efficient way.

"Oh dear," Abel said faintly, watching the dainty little girl happily shovel the food into her mouth with her fingers, then her hand, and finally, both hands. "Are you sure I shouldn't…?"

"I'm sure," Deimos chuckled, digging in to his own meal. He was hungry enough to start using his hands, too. Devochka had wandered over and was busily licking up the splatters that rained down on the floor around Pavlina's chair.

"Hah!" Cain snorted, "she's gonna be an artist, Myshonok; look, she already knows how to finger paint!"

Pavlina had evidently gotten enough inside her and was now busy smearing the rest outside her; swirling the remaining food into an unrecognizable paste that she preceeded to paint on her hair, face and a hovering Abel, with whenever he got within range.

"I think she's done," Cain chuckled, taking healthy swallow of his own stew. "Next time don't give her so much, Baby."

Abel gave him a filthy look and made the mistake of removing Pavlina's chair tray before he'd cleaned her hands. She did that herself a few seconds later, using the clean, white expanse of his cotton dress shirt. He gasped, dancing out of reach and then lunged back to grab for her when she leaned dangerously forward, and almost fell out of her chair. Cain jumped up to his rescue, taking the slimy tray out of his hands. Abel grabbed for Pavlina the same time she grabbed for him, one of her tiny little food smeared hands landing in his hair, the other on the collar of his shirt and the side of his face.

"Shit!" Abel gasped in dismay.

"Shit!" Pavlina repeated happily, and gave him a big, messy smile.

Abel froze in horror, all the color draining out of his already pale face. Cain looked like he would have given anything to be able to throw himself on the floor and howl with laughter.

"Well," Deimos said mildly, continuing with his stew, "At least now, we don't have to wonder what her first English word will be."

* * *

7.

Giving her a bath was an even bigger failure. Apparently, you have to clean children_ before_ you clean them, or you plug up the drain in your tub. Then, you have to hold your wet, shivering child while your husband swears under his breath and unclogs the pipe. You have to refill the tub with water; not too hot and not too cold….You have to use the right kind of soap too or it stings little girls in places Abel really knew nothing about….

By the time it was over, Abel was in tears again and Deimos had had to step in and take over. Twice he'd gotten soap in her eyes—the no sting kind, the damn liars, that still made her scream—and when he lifted her up to rinse off, her slippery little body; well, slipped.

"Shi-oh, dammit!" Abel gasped, grabbing for her in a panic when her little chin hit the edge of the tub and she started howling, looking at him with an accusing, bewildered face. "Oh baby I'm sorry, oh I'm so sorry!"

He was nearly as inconsolable as Pavlina, who wasn't injured, just startled. Cain led him off, shooting Deimos an exasperated look, leaving him to finish the bath. Deimos was just coaxing Pavlina to open her mouth to let him brush her teeth, when Cain returned.

"Jesus," Cain observed, taking in the jumble of towels and bath toys and Deimos' sweaty face, "this place is looking like Encke and Keeler's dump already."

Cain pitched in to help Deimos clean up without being asked though, earning him a quick kiss which left him surprised and smiling.

"Aw you can do better than that, can't you, baby?" Cain purred. Deimos was seated on the toilet seat, a pink faced Pavlina on his lap, tears forgotten and looking rosy and happy again wrapped in a clean pink towel. Deimos looked happy too, he smiled and tilted his face up as Cain lowered his, slanting their mouths together and starting a sensual French kiss that made them both moan.

Until Pavlina reached between them and took Cain's earring in her tiny hand, and yanked, hard.

"OW!" Cain yelped, jumping back and clutching at his ear, his face thunderous, and Deimos held his breath waiting for the inevitable explosion.

And Pavlina started to laugh. They both did a double take, and the little girl laughed even harder, looking from face to face and giggling helplessly. Deimos looked at her in shock, the back at Cain, who was staring at her, mouth open.

"Ow!" Cain said again and she laughed even harder until they were both laughing too, Deimos doubled over and Cain crouched down, holding his sides from laughing so hard.

"What's going on…?" Abel stood in the door way looking petulant and left out, staring incredulously at the three of them.

"Do-do it again," Deimos gasped but Cain was shaking his head, giggling and Pavlina reached out and grabbed a fistful of his hair blue streaked hair.

"Ow ow OW!" Cain yelled and the little girl and Deimos went into fresh hysterics but Cain yelped, "Myshonok, disarm her, Jesus!" until Abel rushed forward and pried the tiny but strong fingers off Cain's scalp.

Cain sat up and rubbed his head, glaring at the two of them and Abel too, who was done feeling sorry for himself and was giggling behind him.

"Oh-oh, don't feel bad," Deimos gasped, wiping his eyes. "I got it too. She just peed all over my leg!"

* * *

8.

The true icebreaker came sometime later. It took three grown men nearly an hour to restore the bathroom to order and prepare one thirty-five pound child for bed. The three of them trouped wearily back to their room, put Pavlina onto the center of their king-sized bed and collapsed in a loose triangle around her.

"Look at her, the little beast," Cain groaned, as Pavlina, who was invigorated from her bath and ready to play, delighted in exploring her new parents by climbing and sitting all over them in turn. There was not a nose pulled or a hank of hair safe from her curious little hands and she giggled and laughed in delight the whole while. Suddenly Abel had had enough, and knocked her flat on the mattress between Deimos and Cain, hiking up her t-shirt and blowing a raspberry on her smooth little tummy. She shrieked with laughter and squirmed, which was fun until one of her flailing legs kicked poor Abel in the nose.

"Ohhhh—owww," Abel groaned, rubbing his nose while Deimos and Cain laughed at him. Pavlina smiled up at him with bright eyes, and he smiled back ruefully. "Well, honey, I guess you owed me, didn't you?"

He sat back, rubbing the bridge of his nose and watched as she turned on her side, face to face with Cain. Her left thumb made its way to her mouth and she sucked on it, staring into Cain's exotic, dark eyes intently. Abel held his breath, watching as Cain stared back, stroking her little girl curls slowly with one, work calloused finger. Deimos stared at Cain with tears brimming in his eyes and caught Abel's gaze with a secret, shared smile.

"She's not so bad, is she, lover?" Abel asked softly, lying against his side and stretching his legs to tangle with Deimos'.

Cain gave a non-committal shrug. "You two bozos know anything about periods?" he asked softly, watching as Pavlina's eyelids grew heavier.

"I'll cover that," Deimos offered, hand rubbing circles on her back, "if one of you takes her to get her first bra."

"As long as I don't have to be the one that has have 'The Talk'," Abel shuddered.

'"Tch. Not going to get any 'talk'," Cain murmured with an air of finality, his finger now stroking her cheek. "No boys allowed til she's eighteen. "

"Twenty-five, and we're sending her to catholic school," Deimos put in. He smirked up at Abel. "Your parents can pay for it."

Abel smiled from ear to ear. "They already said they will….So, does this mean we can keep her? For real; not just a trial?"

Cain looked back at Deimos, then at Abel. "Depends on how good you two can convince me, once we put her down for the night," he purred.

They all fell asleep together, however; even Devochka, who jumped up on the bed to join them sometime later, stretched out protectively against Deimos' side.

* * *

Thank you for reading Part One of 'The Great Rebuilding'. There will be at least another part, hopefully not as long, as I still haven't figured out how to upload chapters. I hope to introduce Deimos' father and Abel's parents more; meet Puck and Oberon's daughters, and see what Praxis and Athos have been up to...This story is dedicated to hamletmachine and her beautiful characters, and to everyone who has ever served in war.-A2MOM


End file.
